Unspeakable
by Miribai
Summary: Fran, on the verge of death, shares her final fears and emotions with a sky pirate who will not let her die. BalFran. PHAROS SPOILERS.


A/N: A short short that takes place at the end of the Pharos. SPOILERS BELOW!

Standard Disclaimer rates apply

For nowheredrummer, my always and forever leading man.

Unspeakable

Fran slunk back from the onslaught of the Mist, seeking shelter where she could die in peace. Viera, though visually striking, are reclusive, unobtrusive creatures. She did not wish to fall in the presence of her comrades, to watch their faces twist in horror and grief as the life ebbed from her body. Curse this violent Mist!

The magicked air whittled away her strength to its last vestiges, and she could no longer stand to flee. The tall, willowy Viera finally collapsed under the attack, her fragile senses being burned away by the cloying Mist.

_Please, just let me pass._ She pleaded silently, still hoping her impending death would go by unnoticed. It was too much, too much magick, too much malevolence for her sensitive body to bear. It crumpled like parchment under the angry wind kicked up by the threatened Sun-Cryst. And while the others watched the good doctor pass away, she too prayed for a quick release from this burning. This choking, oppressive burning.

Fran could hear her partner let out a sigh of grief when Cid ascended to his place in eternity. Her heart broke for him, the son who ran from his father.

The Viera's ears tingled with the sound of someone calling. She could not tell for whom, her hearing had long since been dulled by the concentration of Mist that saturated the Pharos.

"Fran!"

The blonde and dainty waif-girl rushed to her side. She placed blessedly cool hands on Fran's dark skin but they left painful prickles in their wake. Curse again the Mist. Then he came.

The dashing pirate knelt at his fallen partner's side, contained worry painting his face. With her last breath Fran wanted to warn her friends, to tell them to leave her behind and get out. Soon the Mist would be too great for the hearty Humes to bear, but she was already lost.

"The Sun-Cryst bursts. You must run, as far as you can," she begged, her voice cracking under the weight of death.

"Easy Fran," Balthier replied in a tone that soothed her ears and quieted the flames that consumed her.

A long fingered hand reached up to smooth away the wrinkles of his frown. She thought it would be the last time she would feel his warm skin and she relished it. He was always so soft but so strong. She loved to grasp him, to feel the strength of his muscles hidden under the smooth, tender expanse of his pale skin. The dichotomy pleased her and gave her peace, even now at the end of it all.

She wanted to thank him for releasing her. He gave her the freedom of the skies—a dream she had since she was child wondering what lay beyond the seemingly endless canopy of her Mother Wood. To a cold Viera, he provided warm affection. With every kiss and sigh into her neck, he breathed passion in a dull life. His every laugh and jest placed a smile on never smiling lips. He freed her, body and soul, from the servitude of the loving but cruel Wood.

Alas, her life slips, and this is not time for long goodbyes. Only her garnet eyes betrayed the storm beneath the calm of her face. Her eyes spoke the words of love that died in her throat. Viera do no know love, but Fran knew. And she feared speaking the word would weaken the feeling. The fragile new emotion would break between her lips and his ears.

"Hadn't you best be off? That's what a sky pirate does. You fly. Don't you?" Her final breaths stuck in her chest refusing to move, as she sought assurance in his becalming eyes. She must know that he will be alright when she leaves. She must know.

With visible tenderness and unspoken love, Balthier took Fran's hand in his own, breaking the grip the Mist held over her. He looked at her, knowing all the words she wished to say. With unheard heartbeats, his soul sang back.

The leading man must have his lady. Their story was not yet finished.

_Its time to get up Fran, _he thought. _You will not die today_.

"I suppose you better hang on then."

_My love._

* * *

So yes, it's a departure from my in progress story. But I promise, a chapter of that will be up soon. As for now, tell me what you think of my little ditty. Oh how I do love the sweet moments. 


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